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Someday I’ll be Thirty

The torture, the agony
Time grinds by so slowly
The wrong of what’s done
The wicked take a fallen son
And bid claim for another
As demons force us to suffer
Thoughts of death dig too deep
To discard long enough to find sleep
Still, within the hours of self damnation
One thought holds hope for reclamation
Someday I will be thirty
And life will not be so dirty
Less filthy and depressing
Where hope lifts the compressing
Weight of the judging world
A day when worries are hurled
Morals are learned and stories shared
Never forgotten the day of despair
But heal the wound of yesterday
As that someday becomes today